After days and weeks and if I'm honest, a lifetime, of sitting under a heavy fog of confusion, trying to connect the dots of who I am and how I feel and why and if there is a purpose and if I have a purpose and... I'm trying to scratch this itch I have to contribute something to the world. What is it I want to or can contribute?
Why am I so fundamentally angry and frustrated and apart from it providing ME with relief, WHAT has the creative process got to do with it?
Well, maybe it's because it affords me a voice. And this is what I want to say.
I realise my anger is rooted in power and how it is abused. How fear is exploited, and manipulated to sustain the abusers of power and their material gains. How our sense of humanity is preyed upon and instead persuaded to value that which does not unite or enrich us, does NOT create happiness or connection or peace or acceptance, does NOT empower, but does the exact opposite.
I'm upset at how this pits us against each other in competition and by comparison. Seeing each other as something to be threatened by or better than. I'm upset at the unkindness, hostility and indifference it facilitates. I'm upset by how quick we are to judge. I'm upset at the sense of entitlement to such behaviour. It only serves to feed a heartless machine and the greedy few who operate them.
I'm upset about heart-less-ness. The values I uphold are those of the heart, the virtues I've acquired are of the heart. I'm upset because I haven't figured out a way (yet) to make my creative process serve from the heart.
I'm upset because I've been blindly, along with many, led to believe I am of no value... lacking in virtue because I don't have an enterprise or the will to starve myself into a more desirable form. These are the virtues of a miserable object.
I'm angry at the misery this creates in humanity. I am intolerant of misery.
Last week, during a week away with my mother, we happened upon another Irish family. They were also on a girls only, bonding week away and we got chatting to them. It was obvious to me that these women spanned 3 generations so I asked them about it. Turned out the granny was celebrating her 90th birthday and we then fell into that as a talking point and me and my mam were enamoured with how special that was. It was the last night of their holiday.
Before we parted, I asked if they had thought to capture a memory, a group photo of their time together and no, they hadn't. They had photos but there was always one left out, being behind the camera.
I asked if I could take one. One of the ladies gave me her phone and I scanned the space for a nice area to set up the shot. Next thing ya know, I was moving furniture, arranging the lighting, fluffing hair and positioning the girls. I jumped up on a coffee table to 'get the best angle'. I made them feel comfortable and beautiful despite the mammy declaring she had 'terrible legs'. She didn't. I made us all laugh so that I could capture a natural dynamic between them.
We ended up with a gorgeous shot. Three generations of beautiful women. They thought I was a photographer, I let them. And after some hugs and congratulations and appreciation, off they went to bed.
I settled back into my seat again and picked up the chatting with my own mother.
My mam just leaned back in her chair and smiled at me and said "I'm so proud of you". And I was like 'What? Why?". She said 'Do you know what you did for those women? They'll never forget that." I said, "but shur that's nothing, I just took their photo, anyone would do that!" "No, she said, they wouldn't. You made those women feel special. You celebrated a special moment with them and gave them something they will have and cherish forever"
And then I realised. My mother, as always, was pointing out my greatness. I like people. I'm interested. I'm curious. I like to be kind and friendly, helpful and attentive. That's it. That's all it is. That is my greatness.
This has been pointed out to me before. Like the time my sister in law said to me "Every time I'm out with you, we end up in conversation with a stranger. You attract them" and again, I dismissed it. To me this is normal. "Not for me it's not" was her reply.
But I didn't get it. I've never gotten it. I never considered there being any other way with people than at the very least, interested.
So it hurts me when I see indifference and all that comes with it. It's that simple. It hurts me to think there are people who have been treated with indifference and therefore, learned *that* to be the norm.
I didn't fully get this until today and the tears are streaming down my face as I write this and realise how lucky I am and how many people have been treated with indifference or led to believe they are not interesting.
Let me tell you this. You are.
Even if you think (and even if you are) the biggest arsehole ever, you are at the very least interesting. OK? Let's start there.
And yes. I am aware I have declared myself as possessing a 'greatness', and no I will not be ashamed of that. If that's all I ever amount to, it's enough.
Now... back to figuring out the universe. Thank you for reading me <3